Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

The look of the trickling blood,
It just dribbled, but I dream it will flow,
Covering my hazy vision of reality, as it trickles onto the table,
 I feel no pain, but laugh, for they don't see everything right.

They say I'm crazy,
But they are tied to the idea of a utopian world,
Not realising, that they will feel pain and ache wherever they go, and that it will get worse.
Rather than embrace the pain, they fear and deny it.
They are the crazy ones.